The devoted disciples approached their revered teacher, Acyuta, and humbly inquired about the greatness of Kapardeśvara. With deep reverence, Acyuta bowed before Vṛṣabhadhvaja and began to speak of the glory of Kapardeśa. He declared that merely remembering Kapardeśvara is enough to swiftly free oneself from the heavy burden of all sins. By worshipping this Lord, every obstacle is destroyed. One should therefore worship Kapardeśvara with sincere effort and praise him with Vedic hymns. If this is done, perfection in yoga arises within six months—of this, there can be no doubt. Acyuta went on to describe the sacred power of bathing near the Piśācamocana pool. There, a devotee recited the Rudra mantra day and night, along with the Pranava—the very form of Brahman. In that holy place, a yogi, whose very self was absorbed in yoga, dwelt, having taken a vow of lifelong dedication. His body, thin and austere, was covered only with bones and skin, and he breathed heavily, again and again. This ascetic then asked a visitor, “Who are you? From which land have you come to this place? Surrounded by your sons, grandsons, and family, you were always eager to support your household. Yet, you have not performed even the smallest meritorious deed. The Lord of the universe—if seen, touched, or saluted in Varanasi—protects one from the terrible face of Yama. O sage, I have not seen that fearsome face. Now, overcome by thirst, I do not know what is beneficial or harmful. Please, do this for me—I bow to you and take refuge in you. There is truly no one in this world more virtuous than you. Having been touched and saluted by you again—who else on earth is like you? By your grace, I will quickly abandon this wretched birth.” With these words, the ascetic fixed his mind in deep concentration. Before him appeared a radiant form, crowned beautifully and marked with the sign of the moon. Just as the rising sun is seen by all the gods—Gandharvas, Vidyadharas, Kinnaras, and others—there shone Rudra, composed of the three Vedas. The ascetic bowed and praised the matted-haired Lord. He saw the sun, fire, and a tawny steed; he beheld the great sage, pure and composed of Brahman, the lord of the golden womb, the three-eyed one. “I bow always, seeking refuge in him. I shall offer my obeisance, for there is nothing else. That boundless Brahman is your true nature. I seek refuge in you, the self-born. I bow always to the one who transcends even Brahman. You are the vast Time itself, your true nature. I go for refuge to you, the wielder of the Pinaka bow.” Overwhelmed, the ascetic prostrated himself upon the ground, uttering the supreme syllable Om. In that moment, knowledge, bliss, and non-duality—blazing like millions of fires of time—filled him. He merged into the pure linga, which then became wondrous to behold. Yet, no one truly knows the mystery of this; even the learned are bewildered by the darkness that surrounds it.